


Say yes

by haukeakelii



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dreams, Hurt Stiles, Loss of Parent(s), Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Nightmares, Poor Stiles Stilinski, Post-War, Refugees, War, World War III
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 19:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haukeakelii/pseuds/haukeakelii
Summary: 'I don't know what I said yes to but it scares me.'





	Say yes

**Author's Note:**

> This is, from the beginning to the ♤♡◇♧, a dream I had few years ago. I changed it from my perspective to Stiles' but everything else is what I dreamed and I don't know how to explain any of it but if you are good with dreams, perhaps you can help me interpret it.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy :)

Stiles' bag is heavy on his back, despite the light weight of his clothes and the one picture he has of his parents. He is famished, stomach has been empty for days now and it makes it harder and harder for him to carry himself, let alone the extra weight of his belongings.

 

But he doesn't stop. He can't. The group he is walking with is carefully monitored by three police officers but on the side of the gritty road, are two military tanks surrounded by soldiers dressed accordingly in black uniforms and wearing black, traditionally Russian, fur hats. Stiles quickly eyes them up and down before he goes back to looking forward. He doesn't want to get in trouble by looking for too long but out of the corner of his eye, he sees them looking at him anyway. Probably because he's limping and not keeping up with the group but they don't say anything to him. They watch him for a few moments before going back to the conversation that Stiles can't keep up with.

 

He's learned a bit of Russian on the way here. There is an elderly Russian woman in their group, who speaks English with a heavy accent but she taught him how to ask for help, directions and food and if needed, how to confess than he is innocent and not looking for trouble. They have been walking for days now, only taking small breaks every 6 to 8 hours, so the woman had plenty of time to teach Stiles as they walked slowly side by side. She even told him to call her бабуля, but only him and no one else and in the strangest of ways, Stiles feels honored to have permission to call this woman his 'granny'.

 

"Сын, не отставай." He hears her call and so he hurries up to catch up, or at least, he wants to. The few hurried steps he starts taking are coming to a halt when Stiles notices a newspaper on the ground. It's too small, Stiles can't use it for anything, but it does remind him of the events that just came to an end few weeks ago.

 

The big war that people saw coming but that no one prepared for. As the newspaper says, the economy is completely destroyed now and only the 1% is now being able to afford food and clean water. 

 

"Hurry the fuck up or imma leave you behind, kid." Yells one of the officers and Stiles doesn't hear it, but he knows the other two are silently agreeing to the idea. One less refugee isn't going to be a problem, actually, the less the better. It will just make the officers' job easier, having to look after fewer people and Stiles understands that, he really does. In all fairness, he doesn't want to travel with them anyway so he stops focusing on them and instead his attention goes back to the newspaper. It's old and ripped but Stiles can see the year perfectly, 2028 written in bold right in the title. "Come the fuck on!" Stiles flinches, and realizes, for the nth time, that he actually needs the officers to survive. He looks back up but the group is already minutes ahead of him.

 

He wants to make a run for it but after few clumsy steps, he trips over a rock and falls into his hands and knees on the hard, rocky ground. His head is suddenly heavy, mind fuzzy and his limbs feel weak enough to discourage the idea of ever getting up but he does, with the help of a strong set of hands that pull him upwards. The person behind him is big, tall and dressed in way more clothing than Stiles is. He knows it because his back is glued to the person's chest and he can feel the material through his own thin rags. Only after few moments does he realize that the clothes are probably most expensive than his life is worth so he pulls himself away and turns around to take a look at the person's face before he begins apologizing. 

 

Stiles is sure the stranger can see the tears in his eyes and the sound of his crazily beating heart, someone like this man can probably do anything. 

 

The man is dressed in a black suit, wearing no tie but a white shirt and his shoes are shinier than anything Stiles has ever seen. He is a big man, muscles standing out as the suit is tight fitting around the arms, chest and thighs. Stiles doesn't look up above the neck, he is too afraid to do that.

 

"Are you okay?" It takes Stiles a while to realize the man is actually speaking in English and not Russian and he is happy, terrified, but happy that he can understand every word coming out of the man's mouth. "You look dehydrated, come on. I will get you some water." Stiles doesn't know why the man bothers. Even if he will get water, Stiles has to go back to a group that is only allowed water every few days and they were already given some water yesterday so today's extra will not do any good but the man is already holding him around the waist with one arm. The other arm is held out so Stiles could grab into, which he does but very hesitantly. He allows himself to be guided towards a tiny kiosk on the side of the road.

 

It's so small that the woman inside has to sit while leaning forward but even so, the inside is filled. There is a small counter on the inside that by the looks of it, is filled with small cups full of water and each one of those cups has the price written on them with a marker.

 

"A bottle of water, please." Stiles' eyes widen comically. The price written on the cups is $200, already way too much for anyone to be spending on a stranger but then the woman pulls out a half litter bottle of water and says it costs $1000 and Stiles' knees feel week out of nowhere. So much for one small bottle of water but the stranger pulls out a stack of money from the inside pocket of his blazer and gives the money to the woman that looks ever so grateful. 

 

The stranger takes the bottle, unscrews the lid and gives then gently hands the bottle to Stiles who drinks it in large gulps while the man's hand finds itself back on the small of Stiles' back, drawing encouraging circles.

 

"Take it easy." He says, but Stiles' is already slurping down the last bit of liquid. "Would you like some more?"

 

"I... it's fine. You already spent so much on me."

 

"It was nothing. I can easily buy you another bottle if you think you need it but you're going to make yourself sick if you drink like that again." Stiles' can tell, by voice alone, that the man is frowning in worry and he doesn't understand why. Why is he so concerned with Stiles? What makes Stiles stand out so much that someone from the 1% notices him and even buys him water. He's always been told he got a pretty face but right now he is dirty, his hair has over grown from the buzz cut he was forced to get, he is wearing nothing but rags and he is pretty sure that the war dumb-ed him down considering it put a stop to his college years. "I think for now we need to get some food in you."

 

The man says it so easily, as if there is nothing he can't afford but everything about the man is out of Stiles' reach, even the man himself. 

 

"Come with me and I will take care of you." 

 

"I don't know about that..." Stiles confesses and for the first time, he dares look up but he doesn't see a face. He sees brown hair and the outline of a sharp jaw and nothing else but a bright light that is almost blinding. It is Stiles' turn to frown but the man doesn't give him time to ask question because he approaches Stiles until only very few inches are left in between their bodies.

 

"I can give you anything you want, just say yes."

 

Stiles finds himself hypnotized by the voice and while his mind screams 'no, you're in danger', his lips mouth the word 'yes' just before the stranger's lips crash into his own in a short kiss as if that seals their deal.

 

From then on, Stiles finds himself unable to focus but he knows this much : the man is leading him to a car and helps him into the back seat and even helps him with the seat belt as Stiles closes his eyes and slips into darkness.

 

 

♤♡◇♧

 

 

 

But then he opens his eyes as harsh light hits him in the face. There is a loud, contentious -even insistent- sound that causes him to groan and roll over under his blanket. He blindly reaches over to his nightstand to grab his phone and dismiss the alarm just as his father yells his name from the kitchen.

 

"I'm up!" He yells, throwing the blanket off and sitting up. With a sigh, Stiles tilts his head right and left, back and forth, to release some tension. "The hell am I dreaming?" He asks himself, shaking his head is disbelief.

 

With another sigh, he gets out of bed and ready for the day before joining his father for breakfast. John is already in his uniform, hat on the dinner table but pushed away from the plates filled with sugar free pancakes and bowls of seasonal fruits.

 

"Took you a while, your alarm has been ringing for 10 minutes. I was about to come up there myself." Stiles hears the silent questions, the 'are you okay?' and 'should I worry?' but he shrugs his shoulders and starts eating.

 

John gives him a pointy look but otherwise stays silent. He finished before Stiles, putting his plates into the sink, grabbing his phone and hat and saying goodbye with a hug and like that, Stiles is left alone to wonder what exactly he said 'yes' to in the dream. He is very much aware of the fact that he was pulled into lucid dreaming to answer and then out of it as soon as he did, but he still wants to know what the hell did he exactly say 'yes' to.

 

The curiosity is eating him alive.

 


End file.
